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Curvy and unstraight path of love

Love is what we long for,

Constant and living off the curvy edge,

no straight path,


kiss gently,

passionate lip,

Beatles love,

we make it,

could all do with splash of love,

Love is me,

Love is You,

Love is Truth,

constant equals to live off the curve,

plain living every moment,

flash this smile,

love makes you grin,

setting free,

from shackles and bondage,

just be love,

a real version of You.

take the risk,

love and lose,

ultimately, the biggest win,

conquering the drum beats.



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A chill and icy temptation

Slow wind wafting,

gently stroking the lip,

icy breeze caressing the face,

sudden chill interspersed with mundane thoughts and emotions,

what you make of it?


imagined lust,

stoked by silence,

encircled by the bonfire’s flame,

a mind tempted by the caress,

wild sensation,

thunderous night,

reluctance to bowing down,

to divine forces,

tis shall not be a conspiracy,

of humans,

or ghouls,

the battle waged within.

With Love


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With folded hands on Teacher’s Day


Walking in a different shoe,

every time a new step taken,

carving a new path,

fresh learnings encountered during the bumpy path,

happy moments,

constantly learning the art of selflessness and humility,

in moments of triumph,

holding the might and head high,

to fight back in adversity,

taught by our teachers,

O! Wise men and wise women of rare intellect,

I salute you with folded hands,

head in deference to your lofty feet,

my right place is beneath you,

extraordinary teachings,

core values of life,

witnessing your sacrifices,

smile on the faces of our teachers,

never say die and not giving up,

simple truth that not everyone can be teacher,

yet we are fine learners, free givers and capable of making difference to lives,

core values that gives inner strength,

to deal with the gigantic woes and weathering storms,

learning from everyone,

rich or poor,

elder or younger,

values shaping my life and destiny,

grateful my teachers

Happy Teachers Day

Today September 5 Teacher’s Day is celebration on the birth anniversary of Dr Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan social reformer and a great teacher who became first Vice President of India and Second President of India.

Love V

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Wild intimacy, love and starry nights

You call it love,

for me, it’s myriad expression,

intense prayer,

piercing the heart,

flowing like fleeting stars,

every dawn,

a new story told,

witnessed by the starry night,

wild intimacy,

dragging and tearing into each other,

playing footsie,

toe licking,


mad moments,

lips swirling,

ice cream,

losing ourselves momentarily,

breaking rules,

every second count,

precious like a water drop,

till we flip the page,

and become strangers,

whipping a new story,

mosambi juice,

raw mango,


creamy sensual love,

rushing like current,

sweetness and stormy,

setting free,

chucking out the clothes,

barring the soul open,

nudity is art,

the mind wears no cloth,

be swayed,

with the wave of real.




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Rainbow reflection and speckled night

Image credit: Google.


Curled smoke,

ensconced in color hues,

rainbow’s reflection.

stars flitting in the sky,

bedazzled nightfall,

an aerial view,

cars ambling in an arrow-shaped destination,

spangle of lights,

hiding grief, sorrow and bitterness,

a world of extremes,

colors offering solace and dint of hope,

brush stroke and canvas,

painting distinct identities,

contrasting lives under the stars,

shielding humans,

multitude of expression,

glittering sun

drenched tears,

we call it rain,

to wash sorrow from the shore.



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Scattered emotions and home


My friend Pradita Kapahi who blogs at  The Pradita Chronicles mentioned me on Twitter on a discussion on what makes a place home. The discussion and interpretation which followed with her tribe triggered my creative juice on the idea and feeling of this destination called Home. Today, FB notified me of Friendversary wih Pradita and dedicating this poem to the lady and her tribe. You can follow her on Twitter here.


Home is a feeling,

Chime of wind brush stroking the cheek,

lullaby of a child marveling in innocence,

birds’ hymn,

mother’s song and her affectionate palm smearing my temple,

home is an emotion, not a destination,

morning sun flitting past the Arabian Sea,

rainbow lending charm to boulders and glittering in the room,

home is the heart longing for a place left behind,

crevices and wedge,

to rub with undiluted affection,

home is memory,

friends are family,

monsoon splash wiping tears,

local trains,

skyscrapers nurturing aspirations and dreams in the city,

I once dreamed to own and conquer,

home is the place,

I sat during lonely nights on the parapet listening to old songs,

sensitive heart given free ride,

home is imagination,

unbridled joy,

home is maximum city lost in translation,

home is not one place but scattered emotions,

but my vagabond heart wandering aimlessly,

home is the soul, nerves and flesh,



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August date and a flash of emerald stone

a date flashed on the smartphone,


stars in the sky,

it feels!

August, Day 1,

something special about it,

instinct tells it gonna be an exciting month,

bejeweled with promises,

untold stories to unwrap,

dim light shining bright,

a single speck,

to light thousand hearts,

a sign flashing like emerald stone,

the heart rarely read it wrong,

piercing through the skin,

flitting inside the soul,

gentle wind,

flickering of leaves,

nest emptied,

of past baggage and burden,

uncork the zest for adventure,

bare it all,

August never lies.

Happiness blooms.